With her little feet swinging to and fro, and her large blue wistful eyes roving wistfully about the room, Madeline sat and ate up her portion contentedly1. The sun streaming through the back window caressed2 her bright cheek and dusty hair, and made her think of the glad light which had touched her only a short time ago, while she had been learning to dance upon the tombs. Suddenly a strange thought seemed to strike her.
‘Uncle Mark,’ she said, while Uncle Luke dropped his knife and fork in wonder, ‘can dead folk feel?’
‘No, my lass,’ returned Uncle Mark, with some little surprise in his mild blue eyes. ‘Dead men is dead as nails is—they can’t feel nothing. What put that into your head?’
But Madeline did not answer; a sense of great satisfaction had stolen over her at this brief assurance, and, with a glance of meaning at Uncle Luke, she said to herself that, for once in his life, the parson had been wrong.
Dinner being over, there was a general movement, and a great awe3 came over the family as the door of communication between the kitchen and parlour was thrown open, and the latter was seen in all its sepulchral4 splendour. Uncles Mark and Luke passed reverently5 in, and closed the door; but soon Madeline was made straight and clean, and sent in after them, while Aunt Jane, who seemed seized with unaccountable irritability6, remained to tidy up the kitchen.
Once in the parlour, Madeline crept up to the window, and gazed with wistful dreamy eyes across the little garden on the great still river, which crept past flashing and darkening in the sun. Uncle Mark, seated on a very shiny and sticky horsehair sofa, was deep in the pages of the family Bible, while Uncle Luke, with a face as grave as a judge, was repeating in an undertone the words of an Easter hymn7. All was quiet and still in the sepulchral chamber8; but through the closed door they could distinctly hear the rattling9 of dishes, the clangour of pots and pans, from the kitchen. Presently this rattling and clangour became positively10 furious, and simultaneously11 a loud rat-a-tat was heard at the front door. Finally, to the same noisy accompaniment, the room door was opened, and a number of visitors came in one by one.
They consisted of a tall thin man, dressed in glossy12 black, with a long thin face, broad protruding13 forehead, and a bald head; followed by several very rough-looking figures in high hats and rude Sunday suits. Each as he entered doffed14 his hat, with a nod of solemn greeting to Uncles Mark and Luke. The tall man paused in the centre of the room and breathed heavily, while Uncle Mark rose to receive him. He was evidently expected.
The tall man in black, a retired15 tradesman, known in the neighbourhood as ‘Brother Brown,’ was the leader of the sect16 known as the ‘United Brethren,’ of which Uncles Mark and Luke were lowly members. He was a person of some importance and some property, but, having no wider field in which to practise his feats17 of piety18, he was content every Sunday to visit the row of cottages, and, gathering19 his satellites together in one house or another, discourse20 to them on the lights and shadows of another world.
After the keen glance into the room, Brother Brown gave his whole hand to Uncle Mark, and the tips of his fingers to Uncle Luke, nodded grimly to Madeline, and sinking on the sofa, covered his face with large red hands, and sank into deep silence. This manoeuvre21 was followed by all the others present except Madeline. Each covered his face with his hand, and took a gentle header, so to speak, into himself. If we may continue the metaphor22, all remained under water for many minutes. The effect was awe-inspiring.
At last Brother Brown uncovered his face and came up refreshed; the other men emerged one by one.
‘Brother Peartree,’ he said, addressing Uncle Mark, ‘are we all here?’
‘Yes, sir,’ answered Uncle Mark, while his blue eyes wandered over the group. ‘Here be Brother Strangeways, Brother Smith, Brother Hornblower, Brother Billy Horn-blower, Brother Luke Peartree, and myself. Not to speak of little Madlin—she axed to come in, and a child can’t begin too early.’
Brother Brown coughed heavily and looked at the kitchen door, through which came at intervals23 a dull clangour as of pots and pans.
‘Then I suppose,’ he said, ‘Sister Peartree is still obdurate24. Will she not join our little gathering, and listen for once to the words of healing?’
Uncle Mark looked very red and uncomfortable, and jerked his thumb awkwardly towards the door.
‘Never mind the missus to-day, Brother Brown—she’s had a heap o’ worrit during the week, and the fact is, she ain’t just tidy enough to come into the best parlour.’
Brother Brown’s heavy brow darkened.
‘“Six days shalt thou labour,”’ he said. ‘Well, brother, you are the head of your own house, and I leave our unregenerate sister to you. Let us pray.’
Thereupon all, including Madeline, knelt down, while Brother Brown exercised his spirit in a long prayer, with variations and expressions of sympathy in the form of low groans25 and ejaculations from his companions—who had all again (to resume a former metaphor) retired under water. Emerging once more, and receiving a signal from Brother Brown, Brother Billy Hornblower, an overgrown young bargee of twenty, began a homely27 hymn, in which all the others gruffly joined.
Pilot the boat to the City of Jesus,
Up with the tide, though there’s danger afloat*
Far up the stream lies the City of Jesus,
Dark is the night, but we’ll pilot the boat.
Chorus.
Pilot the boat, mates! pilot the boat!
Hark, the wind rises—there’s danger afloat—
Courage! for up to the City of Jesus,
Steadily28, safely, we’ll pilot the boat.
See, mates, the lights of the City of Jesus,
Steer29 for them lights, thro’ the dangers afloat—
Up to the wharves30 of the City of Jesus,
Ere the tide turns, we must pilot the boat.
Chorus.
Pilot the boat, mates! pilot the boat!
Hark, the wind rises—there’s danger afloat—
Courage! and up to the City of Jesus,
Steadily, safely, we’ll pilot the boat.
As the music grew louder, the clatter31 in the kitchen increased, to the obvious dissatisfaction of Brother Mark. The hymn ceased, and Brother Brown delivered a short sermon, founded on the text, ‘Those that go down to the sea in ships,’ which was felt to be especially suitable to those who went down the river in barges32.
After this, Brother Mark rose, and in a few brief words, interspersed33 freely with Scriptural quotations34, addressed the Brethren, taking for his theme the sacred character of the day, and greatly troubling the soul of little Madeline by gloomy references to dead sinners in their graves.
After a short address to the same effect from Brother Strangeways, a waterside worthy35 with a very weatherbeaten face and a very weather wise sort of oratory36, and another hymn from Brother Billy Hornblower, the service was concluded.
Then, as a concluding solemnity, all shook hands, and the conversation suddenly grew secular37.
‘Going down with the tide i’ the morning, mate?’ asked Brother Strangeways. ‘It be high water at four, and we be loaded since day afore yesterday.’
‘Where for, mate?’ asked Uncle Mark.
‘Down right away Southam,’ was the reply.
‘Well, mate, I be anchored at home with the old woman till Monday, and then I goes up with first flood to Crewsham Basin.’
‘Lime?’ asked Brother Strangeways, sententiously.
‘Lime it is,’ answered Brother Mark, and forthwith the talk became professional.
In the meantime, Brother Brown had drawn38 from his pocket several loose leaves or tracts39, a species of torpedo40 which he was in the habit of dropping surreptitiously wherever he went, for the confusion of recalcitrant41 and unrepentant sinners. Selecting three of these, each of which had special reference to the forlorn spiritual condition of a person of the other sex, he proceeded to pin them on the parlour walls—one over the Shepherdess on the mantelpiece, a second under the picture of the Prodigal42 Son, a third under that of Susannah and the Elders. When this was done he shook hands with Uncle Mark, nodded to Uncle Luke, and passed out of the house; the other men, each with a ‘Good night, mate,’ for each of the two Pear-trees, immediately followed, solemnly, in single file.
No sooner had the street door closed than Mrs. Pear-tree, with the sleeves of her gown tucked up to the elbow, entered the precincts of the chamber. Scorn was in every lineament of her countenance43, but directly her eyes fell on the parlour walls, the scorn deepened to wrath44.
‘Brother Brown’s been at them walls again,’ she cried. I wonder at you, Mark Peartree, to sit still and see him do it. Tracts agin your own wedded45 wife, stuck on the walls of her own best parlour—oh, I’d “tract” him!’
As she spoke46, she made a dash at each of the papers in succession, and tore them angrily away.
‘My lass,’ said Uncle Mark, gruffly, ‘read’em—they’re left for your convarsion.’
‘Stuff and rubbish!’
‘Salvation ain’t rubbish, mother, and this here earth’s a wale. A wale it is! And let me tell you, tho’ you are my missus, it don’t become you to put Brother Brown so much about. Why, while we was a-singing, I heard you clattering47 the dishes like a barge26 a-heaving anchor, and I see Brother Brown looking at the door out of the corner of his eyes. No, my lass, it don’t become you, and it ain’t settin’ a good example to little Madlin, who may be a wessel herself by and by.’
‘Never, if I can help it,’ answered the woman. ‘We’ve wessels enough in our family, what with you and Uncle Luke. Look at the mark o’ the dirty muddy feet on the clean carpet. I wish you’d meet outside, or in some other house but mine.’
‘And I wish you’d join us—it’d do you a power of good.’
Mrs. Peartree’s only answer was to toss her head and walk back into the kitchen. Uncle Luke followed very crestfallen48 and pitiful at the domestic disagreement; while Uncle Mark remained in the parlour, and showed the pictures in Foxe’s ‘Book of Martyrs’—a precious tome of tremendous antiquity—to Madeline. The child shuddered49 as she saw on every page flame consuming those who testified to the truth in evil times.
‘Uncle Mark,’ she said, ‘do they ever burn people now?’
‘Not in this here world, my lass; only in t’other. And even then only the wery bad ones—them as hates their neighbours, and can come to no manner o’ good without burning!’
Madeline did not answer, but she thought of Aunt Jane, who was the very essence of gentleness and good nature, but who was made utterly50 unregenerate by the intensity51 of her hate for Brother Brown.
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1
contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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4
sepulchral
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| adj.坟墓的，阴深的 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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irritability
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| n.易怒 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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8
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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9
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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10
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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12
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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13
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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14
doffed
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| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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16
sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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17
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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18
piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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19
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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20
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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21
manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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22
metaphor
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| n.隐喻，暗喻 | |
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23
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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24
obdurate
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| adj.固执的，顽固的 | |
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25
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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26
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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27
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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28
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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29
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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30
wharves
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| n.码头，停泊处( wharf的名词复数 ) | |
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31
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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32
barges
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| 驳船( barge的名词复数 ) | |
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33
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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34
quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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35
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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36
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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37
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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38
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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39
tracts
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| 大片土地( tract的名词复数 )； 地带； （体内的）道； （尤指宣扬宗教、伦理或政治的）短文 | |
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40
torpedo
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| n.水雷，地雷；v.用鱼雷破坏 | |
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41
recalcitrant
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| adj.倔强的 | |
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42
prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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43
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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44
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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45
wedded
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| adj.正式结婚的；渴望…的，执著于…的v.嫁，娶，（与…）结婚( wed的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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47
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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48
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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49
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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50
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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51
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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